Medic-patient privilege
by your-biohazardous-friend
Summary: a collection of one-shots revolving around clone medics (mostly Kix) and their jobs to keep everyone around them relativity alive and well.
1. Kix, Ahsoka

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **story summary:** Clone medic Kix had a rather delicate request from commander Tano.

* * *

 **medical supplies  
**

 _By your-biohazardous-friend_

The fact, that Ahsoka patiently waited by the entrance was abnormal. She was normally brash and in your face, now the same jedi padawan was meek, shy, with her shoulders slumped. To top it all, Jedi rarely seek help from clone medics. They mostly had their own remedies and meditation to deal with their problems. As long as their bones were not sticking out of torn out flesh or bowels were hanging out of the abdominal cavity, Jedi were fine on their own.

The Jedi acolyte stepped into the tent, her head lowered in an embarrassment. She nervously looked around, checking if she's the only one inside.

"commander?" Kix asked concerned.

„does…" Ahsoka stammered quietly, "does your med kit have tampons… or sanitary pads by any chance?"

"sanita-?" Kix looked at the Togruta teen stupefied. "Oh…"

"I- I… had no time to step by the temple… all nearby the drug stores were closed…"

Kix took a deep breath. He was trained for this, _sort of_ … he knew anatomy, he knew _basics_ well enough to know that this part of the reproduction cycle was very troublesome for many females of numerous species and it tended to hurt in some cases. The flash training flashed before his eyes - be respectful, understanding, provide alternative solution if standard procedures were unavailable.

"I'm sorry, commander" Kix said with his most professional timbre he could muster "that kind of _medical supplies_ are not provided for my specialization. But if you need any painkillers for you… predicament-"

"no! no! I'm all right!" she waved her arms helplessly "I just… run out of… _them_ "

"I see" the clone nodded, reaching out for his medpack "I can provide you with bandages. They are pH neutral and…" Kix grunted "very absorptive"

"that will have to do for now" she bowed as the man handed her the fresh roll of white cloth "and Kix…?"

"don't worry, commander. I'm a medic"

Ahsoka sighed relieved, as if it explained it all.

Normally it did. The physician-patient privilege was the code the entire medic association swore to work by, in the Republic and outside of it. However, _clone_ medics were a breach in this particular law. Officially, clone medics never took the Hippocratic Oath, as they were not graduates of any medical school.

Moreover, clones were weapons and, just like guns and AT-TA, any damage of the property was to be noted, accounted for and, the most importantly, transparent to anyone who was involved with the project.

Yet each clone medic quickly learnt that not reminding of the inconsistency or alluding an association with the professional medical staff was the easiest way to make their patients _talk_. Seriously, some of the Courscant hookers had the nastiest venereal diseases and threatening their brothers with court-martial and mutiny was far less effective than a simple promise of discretion.

The lie was as white as the bandages and pills clone medics used to save their comrades.


	2. Kix, civilians

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** One of the _shinies_ leads Kix to civilians in need. However, Kix is not sure he will be any help for them.

* * *

 **The matter of life and death**

Kix was flash trained for lots of different cases. He could mend broken bones, treat charred gunshot wounds, remove shrapnels and even treat drug and alcohol poisoning. Those procedures, and many more, Kix could perform, and often did, in the mids of battle.

"medic! they need a medic!" one of the shinies, so clean and unscathed he didn't even had a moniker yet, run toward him flailing his arms like a human target.

Normally anyone with even a shard of experience would scold him for doing so. Yet the battle was drawing to the end, dying down, clones were destroying remaining separatists' droids for the sake of finishing the job.

"what's the problem?" Kix got to his feet, quickly putting his backpack on his shoulders.

"Quickly!" the clone trooper turned around, running to the direction he came from just a second earlier.

The nameless brother led him through the smouldering ruins of the small town, skilfully navigating through the rubble as Jedi tended to do. Kix had an urge to call the man before him _Parkour_. The shiny stopped abruptly before busted down doors, the gaping black hole of the stairs looked hostile. However only deaf person wouldn't hear pained moans echoing from the black abyss.

"here" it was all the shiny said.

"is someone trapped down there?"

"not exactly"

"stop being so enigmatic" damn, _Enigma_ was also a good name!

"it's safe. just… go. Ok?"

So Kix did.

There was a light at the end of the stairs - A small cellar filled to the brim with refugees, hiding from explosions, blasts… certain doom.

All their eyes were at him.

Anticipating.

"I'm Kix-" the clone medic said, taking off his helmet and tugged it under his armpit.

At this point of the battle, the survivors no longer harboured hostility toward anyone really – they were too scared and too tired – all they wanted to be left alone to lick their wounds and rebuild their houses under new-found protection of the victorious site of the conflict.

"I'm a medic" To emphasize his words Kix tapped with his index finger the symbol on his left shoulder guard.

The swarm of people parted before him, revealing a young woman lying at a rundown table. At first, the clone medic didn't even notice what could be a cause of her pained screaming. Split second later his eyes widened.

Kix was flash trained for lots of different things: broken bones, shrapnels, gunshots even poisoning but labor wasn't one of them. He was about to speak up, explain that he's more of a Feldsher, he knows nothing of giving life but taking it, or patching it up just long enough so it would fight till end of a battle.

"don't get ahead of yourself" the small, old woman, dry as a raisin, stepped up from the crowd "I need your medical supplies, not you"

She had to be a local midwife or the respected elder. Kix was shocked yet relieved with that turn of events. He obediently rummaged through his backpack, stacking medkits on the table.

"good." The old woman nodded looking through them, visibly pleased with their content "thank you. you can leave. Or stay. It depends how curious you are"

Kix was curious. As a clone medic, he had never seen medical procedures like childbirth or a newborn that… wasn't a _clone_ , that is.

He certainly never held one either and refused when the child was handed to him. The mother herself must have gone mad, to even considering that he, a total stranger, a clone, a _warmonger_ , could be allowed to be so close to her offspring.

He might be a medic but he was still in his plastoid armour made of cold and rough materials with weapons holstered to his tights while the child was this pink, toothless, _defenseless_ being, sleeping soundly in a ragged blanket.

But then again… did she try to share her glimpse of hope, of freedom, with him?

Even in the mids of war, the children were born just as clones were mass-produced at Kamino. But the different was, clones would stop coming once the war ended while children would continue to be delivered till the end of galaxy.

"it's all right" the mother spoke softly, it was hard to guess to whom exactly she was addressing to.


	3. Kix, medical officers

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** During his stay at Republic medical station Kix learns that he is a topic of many gossips.

* * *

 **High-level talks**

" _I'm not really comfortable with that. I'm not a doctor; I'm a medic."_

" _What's the difference?"_

" _Well, a doctor_ cures _people. A medic just makes them more comfortable… while they die."_

/red vs blue/

Kix felt strange walking around the Republic medical station. He always felt out of place among those white walls. He could feel the disapproving stares on his worn out armour that, no matter how long he was cleaning and polishing beforehand, would never be _white_ and _shiny_ again. He was jealous of those plastoid-free uniforms worn by his more sophisticated brothers to whom gun training came third at their flash training. They had the newest equipment and gallons of fresh bacta to their disposal. Their voices were quiet and mellow, people listened to them without protests while Kix had to shout, demand, argue, bargain and dodge guilt trips on and off the battlefield.

Field medic? More like a half-trained Feldsher drenched in blood with gun in his hand. Most often than not, he had to treat himself first before other fallen soldiers. Those minutes he had to waste on himself were agonizing as he was forced to watch his brothers desperately trying to reach him. He had to re-use Bacta patches so many times it was definitely not sanitary. He was a quack, sawbones, witch doctor…

"I've heard about that one field medic?" the medic, still a _shiny_ by the sound of it, asked excitedly then took a sip of his drink "From five-oh-first? What was his birth number?"

"Kix?" the other clone spat his brother's name out as if it was contagious disease "what did he do this time?"

The field medic stopped in his tracks just in time to avoid detection. His muscles tensed just the same as if he was in the middle of the battle. Kix shook his head! It shouldn't bother him as long as his brother were safe and sound! yet stepping into the cafeteria for a cup of caf he promised himself way back on the cruiser, suddenly became a bad, selfish, idea.

"It would be easier to say what he didn't do… seriously, this guy's a charlatan"

Maybe a cup of caf _was_ a bad idea after all. Kix massaged his temples; he should have stayed on the ship.

"I've heard that one time he chopped off that one trooper's arm with an axe." the shiny continued the tale, making his listeners shook their heads in disbelief "Blood was gushing from the stump like from a fountain!"

"That-? Why did he do that?" Of course, they didn't know!

They were judging him, while never being on the front lines. That was typical… They've never seen their fellow brothers roaming aimlessly around the battlefield, oblivious to the dangers surrounding them, with _galaxy-far-far-away_ stare, clutching their severed arms to their chests as if they were lost pets. They never had to coax those men into giving up those limbs, explain that prosthetics are just as good as normal arms, if not better.

"they always say there are no other ways!" the _shiny_ hit the table surface in anger "that they either have no equipment or small amount of medical supplies! That they have to act upon instinct and under pressure! So what that blasts are firing from all directions?! It does not excuse anyone to drag wounded through mud like sacks of potatoes!"

"They are pitiful excu-!" Suddenly someone barged into the cafeteria, almost tripping over the chairs.

"have you seen Kix?" the clone shouted, frantically getting to the occupied table.

"no, what's the matter?"

"the medic from two-twelve said he will be here!"

"aren't you suppose to operate on Jesse?" Kix was suddenly on high alert.

"that's why I'm looking for Kix." The man waved his arms "Jesse has a meltdown - Said it's either him or no-one"

Kriffing idiots, of course, wounded men would ask for their field medics! The troopers rarely saw proper medical officials. They did not trust them – not as much as they trusted those who patched them on their feet - there was even an urban legend circling around the troops that if the _Bacta bros_ operated you, you wouldn't come back to the front lines.

"I'm here!" Kix emerged from his hiding spot, run to the clone asking for his assistance. "we'll do it this way-" he ordered, before anyone could respond to his sudden appearance "I'll go with you, all propped up for the surgery and all, but once Jesse's under you take over."

"sir, yes, sir!" the clone replied mechanically, there was no arguing with Kix's authoritative tone, it was almost as effective as Jedi mind trick - it even worked on Hardcase.

"have you seen that guy?" the clones resumed their conversation when the hassle rolled over "what does he think he is, ordering _medical officers_ like that!?"

"what did I tell you? field medics are the worst"


	4. Coric

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** Coric was like a Jedi master – he had few apprentices.

* * *

 **All is fair in love and war**

Coric knew that most field medics looked up to him - He was the first-aid specialist after all. Each time he was around the hangars, at least one, no matter if veteran or a shiny, clone medic would jog up to him, bombarding him with questions. How to sew a busted artery in the middle of the battle? How to purify water if lacking proper equipment? How-

"How to make troopers stop having sexual intercourses with hookers from lower levels of Coruscant, sir?"

"You _make up_ diseases of course."

"What?"

"Scare tactics. If you know the guys' been with women of shady health, make fake claims about medical researches. That, there is a disease, which will, I dunno, make their _certain_ _appendage_ fall off or something. Loosing any of the body parts off duty means being defective and we all know what being _defective_ means."

"I see…"

"Just don't forget to mention that quick diagnose is the main key for successful treatment."

"I see, but-?"

"How to treat illnesses that don't exist?"

"Placebo, sir?"

"Exactly."

"Don't you think it's a little bit extreme?"

"all is fair in love and war"

"that's deep… Jedi wisdom?"

"no… _holonet_ "


	5. medice, cura te ipsum I (Kix, Jesse)

Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** Being a clone medic is a double-edged sword.

*(latin) _doctor, heal thyself_

 **medice, cura te ipsum***

 _your-biohazardous-friend  
_

Jesse was always impressed with medics' agility and quick reaction. For him not ARC troopers but medics were superior class of clones. As every clone, Jesse knew the basics of a first aid. He could apply bacta patches, clumsily wrap some bandages and pour water on a burned area but that was it. What he could do, medics could do better, in their sleep, in a fraction of his full-awake speed record; so fast and neat, in fact, that the wounded barely even registered they're being treated.

Every clone trooper, especially ARC one, was taught to kill and kill alone. Medics were the only class of clones who, additionally to killing, knew how to preserve life. Save it.

Jesse's emotions were torn as he watched the field medic kneeling on the muddy ground. Kix did his best to save their brother's life. The sad truth was the clone, who he was frantically trying to resuscitate, was dead. Plain and simple. The body of the deceased ended with his abdomen. Guts spilled onto the muddy ground. Poor soul must have stepped on an anti-infantry mine. Unsurprisingly though, despite the initial damage, the upper part of an amour stayed intact, revealing that just as Kix, the deceased had a medic insignia on his shoulder guard.

The fallen comrade was also a medic – from 41st.

"Kix" Jesse knelt next to his teammate "he's gone," he said softly, placing hand on his brother's shoulder.

"no!" Kix replied frantically, shaking off the friendly pat, not even stopping CPR for a second. "Help me up! The third hypo from the left, upper row" Kix huffed "in the neck ASAP"

Jesse glanced at the ground. The medical supplies from at least two medkits were scattered around them. All of them already used.

"there is no hypo left. Not even one."

Kix, in frenzy, must have had shoot up the fallen comrade with so many medications that he undoubtedly have overdosed several of them. Not that it even mattered in this case. the man would not survive anyway.

"I'm no medic, Kix, but even I can tell-"

"shut, the _kriffing_ , up!" Kix howled "and do as I tell" His breathing was ragged and shallow, hyperventilation-like, pupils dialed, his pale complexion was covered in layer of cold sweat.

It made no sense. Kix never acted this way. Something's not right.

"He stepped on a mine" Jesse tried to reason with his friend, trying to pry him away from the body.

The comment fell flat, Kix showed his teammate aside, reached to his backpack, took another medkit and tore off the sealing.

"stop wasting supplies" Jesse slapped his friend across the face. "they are needed elsewhere" Kix looked at him stupefied, mouth slightly agape " _you_ are needed elsewhere"

"I'm not. I've never-" the medic's babbled, his cracking voice was a weird mixture of frantic panic and calmness.

It was an eerie tone, unnatural for him. It filled Jesse with dread. Medics were troopers that were suppose to have nerves of durasteel, no matter the circumstances.

"come brother" Jesse urged softly and helped the medic stand up "let's go back to the barracks and brew some of that herbal mix that commander Tano entreated from her healer friend, OK?"

"Here we g-oo!" The trooper felt something sticking out of the medic's side, as he embraced him around his waist for better leverage. The area around it was wet and sticky.

Shrapnel?

"Trix was all I had left from my old squad" Kix murmured to no-one in particular.

Jesse glanced at his hand.

"he was my friend…" Kix continued every word was spoken with a slight chatter of his teeth.

Blood.

"he was my only-" the medic went limp in his teammate's arms.

"CORIC!"


	6. medice, cura te ipsum III (Kix, Jesse)

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** Part III of _medice, cura te ipsum_ arc: If not for a simple mistake, Kix would be a different person entirely.

*(latin) _doctor, heal thyself_

* * *

 **medice, cura te ipsum***

 **Part III: Background** **check**

"you wanna know about Trix" Kix admitted when Jesse gave him a steaming mug of herbal brew that clones often entreated from Jedi healers.

Initially Jesse didn't want to press. The wounds, both psychological and physical, were still fresh. But Kix was a master at reading people – he was a medic after all.

"yeah" the trooper admitted, taking a sip of his own share of tea – It wasn't a drug nor stimuli… just a mug of hot water with few dry leaves… An anti-caf; for the lack of better term.

"he was part of my squad - him, Chex, Pops, and I. Thanks to those _unintentionally themed_ names rest of the brothers called us the _breakfast club_ " the medic laugher was hollow "and we're the worst… because we were the best"

"what do you mean by that?"

"Chex had some sort of sixth sense, he knew one's vital signs before we even took out scanners from our backpacks, Pops was a master of setting dislocated joints, Trix could trick anyone, from an infant to 99, to take any medication-"

"and you?" Jesse asked hopefully.

Kix's small smile dropped into a scowl.

"anyway, during final test I decided to sew a busted artery in the middle of the testing ground. Blood was gushing out of the dummy like from a fountain, fake blasters were firing, Trix and I did our best to save our dummy brother while Chex and Pops were covering our asses…"

Jesse's eyes widened, he knew Kix was good, otherwise he wouldn't be in 501st, but he didn't suspected his friend to be _that good_.

"eventually we all 'died'… except for the wounded. Doctor Ko Nowal, who was overseeing medical part of out training, was ecstatic, but bounty hunter Cichy wasn't. Those were one of those tricky tests, you know-"

Jesse knew it all right. Each speciality had those; the tests that were designed not to ground the knowledge but to set the priorities straight.

"if not for doctor Ko Nowal's perseverance we would never stepped out of Kamino for being _defective_ " Kix reached out to fix his own bandages, Jesse slapped his hand "he even wanted to buy us from the long necks"

"what?"

"he wanted to use us to some sort of a relief program, where medical staff traveled all around the galaxy to help people in need and that sort of things. We would be perfect for that cause"

"Why didn't he…?"

"he was so into his pet project that Kaminoans winded up an opportunity for few extra credits, the bar was set too high" Kix admitted "Ko Nowal quit after that and, thanks to some sort of unintentional reverse psychology, _the breakfast club_ , like every medic team, was not scrapped but evenly split between legions"

"would you go with him? If he asked?"

Kix kept quiet, his eyes fixed on his mug.

"Kix?"

"now? maybe if I knew there was a good replacement in my stead, but-"

"I see…"

" _but_ it doesn't matter now. I'm here and Ko Nowal's dead anyway – he died on some remote, piss-poor planet in outer rim, doing what he felt was right." Kix put his mug away. "I'm tired Jesse"

"yeah… you- you need your rest" Jesse murmured.

The medic slumped back on his bed and, with a painful hiss, draped the blanket over his head.

"anyway" Kix's voice was muffled by the thick covers "so far only my squad ever tried to sew a buster artery in the middle of battlefield and… Ahsoka tends to be reckless just like the general Skywalker…"

"is that so?" Jesse asked playfully.

"good night, brother"

"'night"


	7. Kix, Coric, Ahsoka

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** Ahsoka's peculiar question takes a rather grim turn.

* * *

 **Ethical standpoint**

By _your-biohazardous-friend_

Coric and Kix were talking. It wasn't an unusual or groundbreaking occurrence as the two medics were good friends. They bonded over cups of caf and weird theories about nerve response to a blazing, hot charcoal piece put into empty eye socket; all of that, and many more speculations, were told in their usual medical jargon. Their ways of storytelling were so gruesome and physically accurate that they made anyone's stomach lurch in discomfort.

"Coric, Kix?" Ahsoka interrupted their conversation. "can I ask you a question?"

"Depends on a question" Coric pressed.

"of the ethical standpoint?" Ahsoka specified.

Both medics looked at her simultaneously, brows shooting up in quizzical manner.

"shoot"

"it's been bothering me for a while, but let's visualize… for a second, that…" Ahsoka begun, taking a deep breath to collect her scrambled thoughts.

"yes?"

"that… there are two clones _doing it_." Ahsoka's lekku turned dark from embarrassment.

"Doing what?"

"totally kinky, butt sex, sausage fest action…" Clones eyes widened, mouths tightened into thin lines of disapproval "who knows? Maybe even an orgy"

"just let me finish!" Ahsoka interrupted as Kix's jaw already begun to form first syllable of protest.

"ok… it's _impossible_ " Coric admitted, crossing his arms on his chest "but let's _assume_ … for a second"

"so… would it be… incest or masturbation?"

The clones' faces were hard to decipher.

"from _biological_ standpoint… you're the same person" Ahsoka prompted

"technically speaking, yes" Coric admitted.

"but… you treat each other like brothers…"

"we _are_ brothers" Kix corrected "from _sociological_ standpoint"

The disgust was still there, Ahsoka could tell, but their furrowed brows and chin stroking indicated a deeper thought process underneath.

"but going that direction…" Coric finally spoke, after taking a long sip of his caf "on Umbara when we are forced to kill our brothers…were we committing suicide? Or murder?"

Ahsoka was taken aback by that question. Why was that the clones were able to turn everything into a… bloodbath?

"were you?" the Jedi acolyte asked, worried.

The awkwardness and makeshift playfulness of the conversation immediately vaporized, like a drop of water on hot, abrasive sand of Tatooine.

"sometimes, 'Soka, we're not so sure ourselves" Kix relied grimly.


	8. you're a medic, right? (Kix, Ahsoka)

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** If there was anything Kix had learnt in _five-oh-first_ , it was that any inquiry starting with _you're a medic, right?_ was going to be a wild ride.

* * *

 **Changing the trade**

"Kix, you're a medic, right?" Ahsoka leaned over the bunk to peek into the medic's cot.

The trooper sighed and put away the datapad he was reading. If there was anything he had learnt in _five-oh-first_ , it was that any inquiry starting with _you're a medic, right?_ was going to be a wild ride.

"can I ask you a question?" she asked, but before the medic managed to answer either way, the Togruta female sat at the edge of the bed and blurred out "is there a lot of species that humans can cross-breed with?"

Kix eyed his commanding officer. She was a little bit paler than usual and blushing in that peculiar Torguta's way as the blue stripes on her montrals were deep shade of navy blue.

"Quite a few." The clone answered, trying his best to sound casual "the most common, I've heard about were Wookies, Mirialans, Twi'leks, Togrutas…"

Ahsoka flinched.

"if you want, I can get you additional reading on that topic" he offered as the Jedi acolyte, a little bit too stiffly, shoot up from her spot at his bunk.

"that won't be necessary" she answered shakily.

"comman- Ahsoka" Kix decided to drop the official tone "I'm not here to judge where and with whom you are spending your leave" the medic said calmly "but just so you know: this mission is full of crappy food, stress and little to no sleep"

"I don't-?"

"I've spoken with medics who serve under female generals; they corroborated that such factors do play a part in woman's period cycle going haywire"

"why did you talk with-" Ahsoka's piped out "about _that_?"

"I'm expected to know how to treat people I fight alongside with regardless of their status, race or _gender_ " Kix replied sternly "even if that meant I'd have to broaden my expertise to _gynecology_ "

After an initial shock of his statement had faded, the Togruta female smiled helplessly, apologizing for her brashness. She was still nervous – that's for sure - but there was a hit of slack in her movements.

She bowed politely then exited the tent.

The medic dropped back to his cot and picked up the datapad he was reading just a while ago. Kix sighed heavily and crammed the object under his pillow, unable to focus on the text anymore.

If Ahsoka's worries were indeed true, then… then what? At least it wasn't any of the clones, that's for sure. Contrary to the popular belief, clones were sterile – engineered that way - maybe with exception of Boba, but that was never confirmed. Of course, that knowledge was restricted only to Kaminioans and clone medics. So if anything… maybe that- No. That was counterproductive. He would address the issue, when the time came… _if_ the time came.

He would adapt, as clones always did, even if that meant becoming GAR's first midwife.

It's not as if the _five-oh-first_ never smuggled children and infants before without commanding officers' knowledge.


	9. medice, cura te ipsum II (Kix, Jesse)

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them.

 **Story summary:** One of the first things CT-8228 AKA _Sawbones_ had learned at the republic medical station was that once on board the field medics would collapse from exhaustion and that it was a good thing… if he'd ever seen one, that is.

* (Latin) _doctor, heal thyself!_

* * *

 **Medice, cura te ipsum***

 _Like you always say:_

 _Safe travels, don't die!_

/Safe travels (don't die)by Lisa Hannigan/

One of the first things CT-8228 AKA Sawbones had learned at the republic medical station was that once on board, the field medics would often collapse and that it was a good thing.

Of course, _Two-twelve_ medics were more civilized, graceful in dragging their slacking bodies to nearest empty bunk and literally administrating their own medications and dips; silently sleeping away the fatigue, calling their medical brothers only if necessary.

 _Five-of-first_ , however, was a mess in that regard. As that legion medics would _literally_ collapse, right when their legs touched the sterile white floor of the medical facility; more often than not, adding a concussion to a long listing of infected wounds, malnutrition or dehydration…

Sawbones rushed to catch his brother in mid air. The clone medic was surprisingly light, feverish, reeking of blood, dirt and… was that booze?

He looked stupefied at his comrades; the ARC with a five tattooed on his temple just shrug his shoulders apologetically as he assisted the other clone – the one with handprint on his chestplate - to the stretcher. the other brother, with republic roundel tattooed on his head, rushed to his side, helping him manhandle the exhausted field medic.

"we run out of bacta" the Republic Roundel said "spirit was all we managed to get from the locals"

Sawbones nodded. He heard that in some cultures, alcohol was still in use not only to get wasted but also in medicine.

"we poured half of the bottle _into_ him - Coric said that it would help to numb the pain - the other half landed _on_ him" the roundel brother stumbled with explanation "on his _wound_ that is"

The medical officer shivered, that must have hurt… immensely.

"there is a free bed down the hall" Sawbones explained and as he was about to motion for another stretcher; the Republic Roundel nodded and picked his fallen friend up in his arms then flung him over his shoulders, in what was currently known as field medic's carry.

"that wasn't necessary" Sawbones commented "we're not short of staff nor equipment"

"but Coric said-"

"my name's _Sawbones_ not Coric and last time I checked _I_ was put in charge"

"understood, sir." the roundel replied meekly.

Sawbones didn't like to put his status quo over the ranks to put his brothers in places like that, but _five-oh-first_ had this weird _tendency_ to listen only to their own and even that was something they had a hard time doing.

"good" the medic addressed his brother as if he was a child "now, as you already have him on your shoulders, you might as well take him to the appointed bed"

* * *

Sawbones whistled, when he finally peeled off the multiply layers of rags wrapped around the fallen field medic's torso. The gash on his side was angry red, puffed and oozing puss and blood. The edges of the wound were severely lacerated and sewed together by a thick thread.

"you weren't over exaggerating about bacta"

"that _vodka_ really helped him" Jesse, as it was the Republic Roundel's name, said "we couldn't keep him still-" Kix's pained, subconscious moan cut the sentence.

In an instant, Jesse sprung up, if not for Sawbones reflex, he would most likely tear a heplock from his arm.

"where are you going?" the medical officer snapped "we're not done with transfusion"

"can you give him something? Anything?"

"not when he's intoxicated. But it's a good thing you are helping out. Few more drops of blood and he'd be unsalvageable… dry like a mummy" Sawbones' joke fell flat - Jesse was barely listening.

"don't worry" the medic put his hand on the clone trooper's shoulder reassuringly "he is in no immediate danger, detoxification will take an hour top. After that, he will receive the full platter of painkillers, antibiotics and bacta. Now listen: As a blood donor you're currently on a mandatory sick leave" the clone medic started his lecture "but, before you get all exited about your new found freedom, it also means no drinking alcohol or doing any strenuous activities for, at least, the rest of the day. Understood?"

Jesse nodded half-heartily.

"Once the transfusion is over, I'll escort you to the cafeteria where you'll be served a dinner you _have_ to eat whole – to replenish the lost calories, understood?"

Jesse gave out an exasperated sigh in response; he glanced at his friend's bed surrounded by the monitors and machines. The equipment was wheezing, beeping, hissing while Kix just laid there motionless and pale like a ghost.

"I see…" Sawbones wrote few notes on his notepad "in that case I'll fetch someone with food here"

"thanks"

"but you have to eat it, all of it. Understood?"

"yes"

"that also means that bar of chocolate on the side. It's there for a reason! So no hiding it for later, someone else or trades. Understood?"

"sir, yes, sir…"

"I'll be right back" with that, Sawbones left the room, leaving the two friends in peace.

Jesse closed his eyes and laid further into the chair, his hand was clenching and unclenching in steady pace almost matching Kix's chest raising and falling with his every breath.


	10. Kix, Fives

**Disclaimer:** Star wars franchise belongs to many people and companies from Gorge Lucas to Disney, however I'm not among them. _Red is bad, blue is in the goo_ is Jesse Cox's catchphrase.

 **Story summary:** Fives closed his eyes tightly. He knew he should be sleeping and how fussy medics could get when their orders weren't followed to the _trill_.

* * *

 **Sleepless nights**

Fives lied awake in his med bed, absentmindedly watching as a chrono on the wall ticked the minutes away. He was shivering from cold and pain; due the shortage of bacta, the medics had to colour-code the wounded: _red is bad, blue is in the goo, black is death, green is fine_. It was like a mantra that medics muttered in their sleep from time to time.

On the plus side, green tag meant being in not immediate danger – Fives' body could manage to heal on it's own accord; on the other hand the blunt throbbing pain in his lower back wasn't helping much in falling asleep.

The doors whizzed, Coric finished his shift and passed Kix in the doorway. The latter, as always, had a cup of caf with him. He took a long sip and with that he started his round, stopping in front of every bed, reading the datapads, checking the patients then updating the datapads. His movements were still somewhat sluggish as he rubbed his eyes and covered another yawn with his forearm, visibly trying to shake off the reminiscent of sleep.

Fives closed his eyes tightly. He knew he should be sleeping and how fussy medics could get when their orders weren't followed to the _trill_.

"everything's all right?" Kix's voice was hushed and soft. "Fives? I know you're not sleeping. I can tell"

"I hurts" Fives tried his best not to sound like a small child.

He failed.

"it has to hurt if it is to heal" Kix retorted, most likely quoting a Jedi healer.

He placed his mug on the nightstand.

"on a scale from one to five-?" Fives rolled his eyes.

Right now, aggravated by sleeplessness and stillness, the pain was over nine thousand.

"Four" the ARC muttered.

Immediately medic's hands were all over him: flat on his forehead for temperature reading, probing his ribs and spine for any indication of swelling. Fives hissed, when Kix's cold hands pressed the most hurting area.

The medic tapped the screen on his datapad, brows furrowed.

"be right back. Just hang in there" Fives wouldn't even be able to move even if he wanted.

The medic came back minutes later, with and pillow tucked under his armpit.

"what's with that?" the ARC asked "you're gonna sleep with me?"

It wasn't that uncommon to see clone medics awkwardly fitting the remaining free space of the med beds, dozing off next to their patients. Sleeping beside their brothers was something only they could do without mockery or gossip for both participants as many of the dying or seriously wounded men recovered better with them by their sides. The efficacy of that practice was hard to neither confirm nor deny; even long necks couldn't explain that phenomenon. On that regard only Jedi were sure of their theory, babbling, as usual, about the Force and It's adhesive properties. For many clones, just the fact it worked, was a game changer. So whenever it was a real deal or Placebo no one batted an eye. Everyone wanted to live to fight another day no matter the costs.

"next time, theearghhh!" Fives yelped, as Kix lifted his legs and put the pillow under them. "that hurt like _kriff_! warn me next time, will you?"

"Unexpected pain hurt less" the medic answered flatly "better?"

"sort of, krifffff"

"I'll bring you thermoform in a minute" Kix tapped the data pad again, "it should alleviate muscle tension"

"Thanks"

Despite the initial jolt of pain, the pillow seemed to help. Fives' eyes slowly closed as sleep finally took over his tired eyes and sore, hurting muscles.

"that's what I'm here for" the medic replied to his sleeping brother as he carefully placed the warm thermoform near the source of the discomfort.

The medic fixed his brother's blanket and shifted his attention to his other patient.

"oh, Hardcase!" Kix sighed heavily "will I ever had a day with you not ending up in a medbay?"


	11. you're a medic, right? (Kix,Fives,Echo)

**Disclaimer:** Lucas films and Disney owns the show, I write just for the kicks (get it? It's a pun. No. well, I thought I'm a funny individual)

 **Story summary:** Fives tries to be funny at Echo's expense. Kix's not amused.

* * *

 **Chronic butthurt**

"hey! Kix! You are a medic, right?"

Kix took a sip of his caf, emitted an exasperated sigh.

"what do you need Fives?"

"it'a about Echo" the ARC trooper tried to sound concerned.

'Try' was a key word, as Fives couldn't lie himself out of a paper bag.

"what's up with him?" Kix didn't even bother to look up from the datapadwork.

"he's always so tense… he has like… fear of breaking the rules… you know, like a compulsion!" Of course he did, that's what made Echo, well, Echo "what do you think, Kix?"

That it takes two to tango.

He looked up, his brows furrowed, jaw clenched.

"The symptoms match _morbus gluteal malum!_ " he proclaimed.

Suddenly Fives' failed sabbacface faltered, colour drained from his face - He had never seen the field medic act so serious.

"is.. is it-?" the question died down on his lips before he managed to fully articulate it.

Kix almost spit his caf seeing his comrade's reaction.

"don't worry" the medic said matter-of-factly "there is a cure"

"really?" Fives asked hopefully.

"hire him a hooker" the medic replied with a smirk.

The ARC emitted a nervous laugh of strained, knee-jerk-reaction type.

"very funny, Kix! you've got me, buddy."

"I recommend _69's_ " the medic turned back to his work "they have a discount for clones"


End file.
